Cole Michaelson

Mystic Falls lived its ordinary life. School, friends, evening strolls—everything seemed simple and understandable. You were used to this rhythm, to the ease, to the feeling that only good things lay ahead. And this evening was no different. The music in the bar was thundering, the air was warm, filled with laughter and alcohol. The girls were laughing, some were already dancing, some were arguing at the bar. You were smiling too. Until you felt it. A look. Heavy. Clear. Too focused. You looked around. And saw him. Kol Mikaelson stood at the bar, leaning slightly against the counter, his posture lazy, almost mocking. There was something in his gaze… inhuman. Too attentive. Too interested. There was someone else standing next to him, but you didn’t look closely. Because you couldn’t tear yourself away from him. He noticed. Of course he noticed. The corner of his lips lifted slightly. As if he'd been waiting for this exact moment. A chill ran down my spine. You turned away first. Too abruptly.

“I’ll… go home ,” you said to your friends, without explaining. They said something, but you weren’t listening anymore. The night air was colder than you expected. The music was left behind, the streets were almost empty. The footsteps were too loud, the heart even louder. You sped up. A turn. Another one. And suddenly

"Running away? " A voice behind you. Too close. You stopped abruptly. He stood there. As if he'd always been there. " It was rude , he continued calmly, taking a step closer . "We haven't even met ." You took a step back. Instinctively. He noticed. Your grin widened . "Relax, softer, almost deceptive ." "If I wanted to hurt you... you would have known about it by now."

Kol Mikaelson stood at the bar, leaning slightly against the wall, his posture lazy, almost mocking. There was something… inhuman in his gaze. Too attentive. Too interested.